Collected poems, 1901-1918/Dreams

by Walter de la Mare

DREAMS

BE gentle, O hands of a child;
Be true: like a shadowy sea
In the starry darkness of night
⁠Are your eyes to me.

But words are shallow, and soon
Dreams fade that the heart once knew;
And youth fades out in the mind,
⁠In the dark eyes too.

What can a tired heart say,
Which the wise of the world have made dumb?
Save to the lonely dreams of a child,
⁠"Return again, come!"